


Not Yet

by MegumitheGreat



Category: Promare (2019)
Genre: Attempted Murder, Hate Crimes, M/M, Post-Canon, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Racism, Sensitive Topic, Spoilers, Torture
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-05
Updated: 2019-12-25
Packaged: 2020-11-24 12:20:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 9,140
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20907557
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MegumitheGreat/pseuds/MegumitheGreat
Summary: It's been a few months after Galo and Lio foiled Kray's plan.  The Burnish were normal people again, but that didn't mean that the maltreatment and racism that they endured had gone away.  Subject to an increase in hate crimes, things weren't better--not yet.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> **This fic contains graphic violence and sensitive issues.**
> 
> The end of the movie implies that life after the Promare disappeared was happy and healthy, but I can't help but think that there would be still a population that felt threatened by the former Burnish. This idea draws upon the current societal climate, and albeit it's a bit romanticized because I can only write so far before I truly feel like such a monster, I felt like I needed to write it. By all means, the movie has a good message; I just couldn't help but wonder in a more pessimistic sense.

Ever since the Promare left Earth and returned to their own planet in the parallel universe, Galo and Lio had been inseparable. It wasn’t as if they needed to be in each other’s company. Galo simply wanted Lio to be held accountable for the damage he had caused to Promepolis, and considering that the former Mad Burnish leader was now officially unemployed, being recruited into the Burning Rescue’s ranks was the only answer to the problem. The two men didn’t want to admit it, but they also enjoyed each other’s company. Not long after, Galo had proposed that Lio lived with him. It had taken him a while to ask, and he was still flustered by what had to be done to save Lio’s life. It was only to save his life, but there was a spark that burned even stronger than the Promare ever wished they could, leading to the two of them—as the other members of the fire rescue had expected—to become an official couple.

The new status had garnered some peculiar questions from Lucia and Aina and even Heris, though. Heris was interested in knowing if the Promare had truly disappeared, and she politely asked Lio to try and flick a flame every now and again. Aina wanted to know what it was like living with Galo. Lio simply told her that it was interesting. He couldn’t bring himself to expose his new partner’s at-home habits like walking around in his underwear, lazily throwing himself into bed every night, and that every time there needed to be a cuddle, Lio had to be the one to instigate it because Galo was remarkably too shy for such an extroverted guy. He especially couldn’t tell her about times that he had to get physical with him. Nope, it was just interesting. Lucia, however, refused to take that as an answer. She asked exactly what those habits were and made sure to get her answers. Naturally, Galo had to beg Lucia is wipe her memory and delete any sort of archived evidence of Lio’s honesty right after.

The two kept a darker secret. They didn’t tell their friends in the department about the cruelty and harassment. The Burnish didn’t burn anymore, but their existence was still marred by the initial incidents of spontaneous combustion in public places. Even Guiera and Meis, who worked alongside Lio and Galo, still got death threats from the people they worked to save from fires. Galo tried his best to encourage them to keep helping others; he never realized that he and those that had adopted them into their firefighting family were the exception. The two weren’t foolish. They left with their new friends and never went out alone at night in case someone tried to douse them in gasoline and set them on fire. They had seen it on the news one morning. She was a young mother of two and had just celebrated her second anniversary when she was attacked on the street with her family. Her husband had taken their children to safety at her request, and when she stayed behind as a decoy, she was set on fire.

“Come on, put the fire out yourself!” the assailants had mocked their blazing victim. 

She had been severely burned and disfigured but survived the attack. Since then, the former Burnish feared walking out in public. Sympathizers tried to give them some solace, but for every one person that felt sorry for them and tried to help, five haters would gang up and pummel a Burnish into the ground. And there wasn’t much of an effort to stop the attacks. There were plenty of laws in place, but people were too scared to report threats and began to believe that police officers and other authorities would simply laugh it off it there wasn’t a case for murder. There were other issues of proving the attacks had been motivated by any sort of prejudice.

Ignis and his team worried for Galo and Lio. Unlike Guiera and Meis, who knew when to pipe down—and did so at Lio’s command—they knew the hot-blooded young man would try to challenge anyone that targeted him. He insisted on not giving into fear; after all, he had led his people by not backing down in the face of Kray Foresight. He understood that not everyone was a fighter, but he refused to let fear take hold.

That week had been hard on the firefighters. There had been an increase in arson attacks throughout the cities due to the increase in hate crimes against the Burnish. They often came back tired and covered in mild burns. Even Galo and Lio were spent at the end of each day. It was to be expected that the former boss was tired. He no longer had his fire, and he wasn’t fit like everyone else was, who were all used to carrying the equivalent of an 18-wheeler truck on their whole body. Lio’s stamina had drastically decreased when the Promare left, as much as he hated to admit it and tried to hide it. Lucia promised that with more exercise and training, he would be on the same level as them in no time.

“I’m just going to head home,” Lio sighed that evening after returning from a job.

“Can you wait a couple more hours?” Galo asked him. There was an unusual amount of concern in his eyes. “I don’t want you walking out there by yourself, you know.”

“As if a couple of Burnish-wannabes scare me. Look, I’m just heading home. I’m not stopping anywhere—not even that far of a walk.”

“But Lio—!”

Lio had already changed out of his uniform and into a T-shirt and slim-fitting pants when he made his decision. He was aware of his small stature and admittedly androgynous looks. People who didn’t know him would think he was just some defenseless high school girl. That frightened Galo—something he still didn’t quite comprehend.

The walk was quiet and peaceful. The afternoon crows crooned through the city, a brisk breeze ruffling their feathers. Lio liked the weather in the evening. When he was surrounded in fire, he never knew what it was to feel that autumn air on his skin. He entertained the thought of surprising his boyfriend.

“See, I told you I’d be fine,” he nonchalantly said to himself. He tightened his grip on the straps of his tote bag. “Geez, he gets worried over nothing. He’s such an idiot…but he is my idiot.”

All was silent.

No cars.

No other people walking on the sidewalk.

Just silence.

And isolation.

Total isolation.

“Lio, I’m home!” Galo announced when he opened his front door. 

The lights were off, and it was eerily silent. The kitchen was still immaculate. No one had touched it. No one had dropped off their belongings to wind down and take a bath. No one had climbed into bed waiting for his boyfriend to come home so they could sleep together.

There was an ominous sinking feeling in his chest and a rising bubble of anxiety working its way up from his stomach. Galo called for him in the house. He called for him outside and up and down the street. He ran back to his department building calling his name. Over the phone, he asked if anyone had seen him since he left, but no one could say where he was. Galo hurried to the police. He knew it had only been a few hours, but he just couldn’t take that chance.

\------------------------------------------------

“You’re going to pay for this,” Lio growled at his kidnappers.

He had been hogtied and blindfolded. The last thing he remembered was someone grabbing him from behind. They had covered his mouth, attempted to gag him with a cloth, and drove him to some secluded location. It was dark for the most part with the only light coming from a campfire lantern. Around it were folding chairs and a cheap folding table. There was a duffle bag next to it clearly filled with large items. He couldn’t see inside it.

“Remember, no names,” one of the kidnappers had said. This one took off the blindfold, and Lio saw above him a scraggly-looking man. Even in the dim lighting, he could tell this man had either been using some sort of drug or was drunk. He had a rat-face, wearing a white tank-top and baggy black pants. “You know who this kid used to be?”

Lio’s eyes flicked over to the second and third of his kidnappers. Another scrawny man and one with just a little less muscle than Galo. They talked about who he was—the notorious leader of the Burnish; how could they not know? He had been on the news so many times, and once his identity was revealed, his image was etched into the memories of all the people that hated the Burnish.

The men had codenames—Maus, Rit, and Jel. He didn’t understand why that was necessary. He thought they were a bunch of lowlifes looking for some cheap thrill. They were copycats that had seen someone attack a Burnish and wanted in on the fun. He wasn’t afraid of them; they were nothing.

“A triplet of idiotic cowards,” Lio sighed. “Do you think you’re doing society a service by trying to scare me? I’m part of Burning Rescue; this is a felony, so I suggest you untie me and send me on my way.”

Maus kicked him hard in the side. He ordered him to keep his mouth shut. When Lio told him to let him go again, this time with a little more bite, he stomped on his back. It had knocked the wind out of his lungs, forcing him to cough and gasp. Laying on his stomach with his limbs bound prevented him from breathing properly as well. It barely gave him the freedom to look over at the chairs and duffle bag, which Rit pulled a bat from. It was one of those titanium ones that pinged when it hit something. Worn and scratched up from use, this man had to have been a ball player at some point.

“I dare you to hit me,” Lio growled at him. “Don’t think you’ll get away with this!”

Rit held the bat like a golf club near his knee that was still bent in its bind. At first, he slowly brought it close, the anticipation rising up in Lio’s chest despite his fearless façade. The next second, after a deft hit at his knee, he howled in agony. His leg reflexively pulled back on his arm, and had he pulled on it any harder, he would have dislocated his own shoulder and torn off his hands.

“We’re not playing around,” Jel told him.

“It’s because of you and your fucking people that we lost families!” Maus hissed at him. “I lost my wife!”

“The Mad Burnish didn’t kill anyone!” Lio told him. “I made sure that innocent people always had a way to escape!”

“Not when all this shit started!” Rit snarled. He came around to the front and placed his boot on his neck. “Cut the fucker free. I prefer my targets to try and fight back.”

Jel took his knife and cut the ropes. Lio couldn’t crawl away from them while he was pinned down. He was strong and an expert at fighting—he used to be at least. He no longer had his fire. And the fear that was settling into his heart now that he recognized he was in danger hindered him even more.

Maus and Jel returned to the duffle bag, pulling a piece of piping and another baseball bat—a wooden one this time. When Rit lifted his boot to give him the chance to try and escape from wherever they had brought him, the three of them agreed they would take turns. With a bad knee and less oxygen in him that he needed, Lio fumbled to a garage door that had been pulled down and locked. It was too dark by the door to see where the latch was, but by then it was too late. One of the assailants had made the first strike, hitting him in the head and knocking him over.

The world was spinning in darkness, and at first Lio thought he had maybe fallen into a different dimension. Another strike to his back. He scrambled away from the garage door for safety. Aside from malleable boxes and weak crates and a grounded automobile that had been locked sometime well before this nightmare, there was nowhere to hide.

“Not so tough without that fire, huh?!” Maus taunted him.

Lio’s eyes hadn’t stabilized yet. The dizziness that was an aftereffect of the first blow made him wobble. He tripped over his own feet, and while he managed to catch himself from falling face first into the pavement underneath him, Rit took the opportunity to hit him in the middle of his back.

“You still have…a chance…to let me go…” Lio rasped as the pain sucked the air out of him. Jel flipped him over. “I…won’t press charges if you let me go…” Yes, maybe bargaining would help.

“You’re not going to press charges as at all, you piece of incinerating shit,” Maus said. He spat on his face as he raised his pipe. “You’re not making it out of here alive.”

Lio barred his face from the barrage of blows aimed at his head. He tried screaming to see if that would catch someone’s attention outside of the garage. But it was the dead of night. No one would be out this late. The strikes were aimed at his elbows and wrists, the intense pain making him wonder for a fraction of a second if they had been broken now. He kept them up; if they managed to bash his face in, he would die.

“Stop it!” Lio now pleaded, the throbbing aching in his arms far surpassing that in his leg and head. “What’s the point of this?!”

“The point? To get revenge on you fucks for taking away our families!” Rit cursed at him.

Lio took that moment to roll and scrambled away again. He ran for the duffle bag, but all he found was a small lighter and a cigarette box. Would apologizing work? He was completely scared now. There was nowhere to run. He quickly got on his knees, bowing and pleading for them to stop. He wasn’t the leader of the Burnish anymore. He wasn’t a Burnish anymore. He was just a normal human that had to eat and drink to survive and a person who empathized and sympathized with his brethren and victims of the spontaneous combustion. But to people like Maus, Rit, and Jel; he was little more than a cockroach that needed to be exterminated.

The only thing he could do was shut his eyes and wait for their rampage to end as they expended whatever hateful energy they had in them. He tried to protect his face, but eventually his bruised and battered arms couldn’t take the beatings anymore. They cramped up, forcing him to curl into a ball for protection. His fingers interlocked on the nape of his neck only for one of the blows to fall perfectly on them and smash them. He yelped in pain.

He tried to gain their sympathy again. The hard and scary leader had been reduced to a sobbing mess—that was their goal, right? He looked at his fingers. He was in a committed relationship. If they killed him, how would his partner feel? What had happened to their families was by accident, and nothing would make them feel better; however, were they not as bad if they killed him and took him away from Galo? If they wanted revenge, how would that bring back their dead families?

They knew it wouldn’t, but it didn’t matter. They hated him. They hated the Burnish for all that they had done. It was their fault that their lives had been destroyed. They would be the vigilante heroes that would execute the former leader that had brought hell on earth. If they were caught, it would only be another badge on their sorry lives.

Lio’s heart was breaking. Why would they want to throw away their lives like that? Why would they want this heinous crime tagged onto their names? Who would be proud of murdering people that had to live in fear for thirty years before they were released from their own torment? All he and the Burnish wanted was to be human again, and now that they finally got that, they could begin on the path to healing.

The Burnish weren’t just discriminated and wrongly arrested but collected and run like cattle into refugee camps. They were processed like worthless knickknacks and slowly killed off to power incomplete technology. They had suffered, and Lio thought he was helping them and keeping them safe. Things had only gotten worse now that they had been allowed to re-assimilate into society.

“The Burnish had a right to live…!” he tried one last time to stand up for what he had done for his people. “I have a right to live…! Why are you still trying to take that away from us?! We’re just like you now—we can’t use our fire! We’re humans!”

“You’re scum!” Jel retorted. “Killing innocent people! I bet you all are just pretending to not use fire. I’ll fucking end you!”

There was no getting through to people like this. Lio realized that once he was hit one more time in the side of head. He hit so hard that his earring had been torn from his earlobe. People so entrenched in their hate, unable to see things from the less fortunate viewpoint. He was sorry that their families had been destroyed when the Promare had invaded their world. It was all an accident. He hadn’t meant to diminish their loss. Everyone was suffering. He just wanted to help those who were wrongfully blamed for something they had little to no control over.

After minutes of every inch of his body being bludgeoned on the ground, the three men backed off. They looked at their handiwork like demons tittering about their misdeeds. The world had lost its shapes, the dim light from the lantern waxing and waning. His mind struggled to hold onto threads of reality. He willed himself to keep breathing.

Everything sounded far away. He tried to focus on what they were talking about. Remembering what people did when they attacked Burnish suspects, he barely reasoned that the last step in their plan for revenge was the tongue-in-cheek move. They were in a garage. There had to be oil or gasoline around. They were somewhat heavy, and they were probably tired from beating him. Their blurred figures shrank away from him.

“Come on,” he mouthed to himself. “Move. Get out.”

Operating solely on the motive to survive, he slowly turned over onto his other side. If he could find the latch to the garage door. He propped himself up; he momentarily lost focus, a strange and distinct calm coming over him. Something warm streamed down his face—in fact, a number of warm rivers fell down his forehead and ear and cheeks.  
“F-Focus…” he commanded himself breathlessly. Had breathing always been this excruciatingly painful? “Latch…”

He felt the bottom of the door. His mangled finger pressed up against the latch on it. He unlocked it, but how would he push it up just enough to get out? The anxiety of impending death was taking hold of him. He didn’t have a chance of being resuscitated now. He didn’t have the Promare in him. He didn’t have Galo with him.

He drifted again, falling forward onto the door. He had to keep it together! His attackers would be coming back any minute. He drew in as deep a breath as he could until the searing pain made him wince. Forcing his body, he pushed up on the garage door with everything he had left in him. The shutters clanged together, eliciting a fearful whimper.

“What was that?” one of the attackers questioned. He couldn’t tell who it was. “Fuck, he’s getting away!”

Lio held up the door by swinging the latch down like a stopper. Quickly despite the fatigue in his limbs, he wormed his way under the door. Someone grabbed his ankle and tried to pull him back in. He didn’t understand why they didn’t open the door unless they truly were worried that someone would catch them. He screamed out again with the hope someone—_anyone_—would hear him. But no, one of them was slowly pulling him back under. And he was getting so tired.

“Get back here, roach!” Maus raged.

His knees were shot, but he still managed to kick his hand off. Lio dragged himself out into the street. He didn’t stop to wait and see if they would open the garage door and pull him back in. He was only partially wrong. Jel forced the door up while Rit and Maus rushed over to him and poured the gasoline they had been looking for on him. Some seeped into his bleeding wounds, which stung horribly. He pushed himself up, again using his desire to live to keep him going. Jel came at him again with one of their bludgeoning instruments, hitting his knee out of place and allowing his fellows to bring the lighter to him.

With the flames engulfing him, the attackers made a run for it. Lio cried out in agony. He had forgotten that fire hurt. Tears streamed down his cheeks through the dried blood as he contorted his body to get the flaming clothes off. He sobbed and wept for someone to help him. He wasn’t a Burnish anymore; he wasn’t impervious to fire. He managed to get his shirt and pants off before the fire had completely destroyed them, but his skin had suffered damage. He gripped his arms even though it pained him. He was zoning out again. His steps were unsteady. He had escaped, but at what cost? How much longer could he go on somewhere he didn’t recognize?

“Ga…lo…” he uttered brokenly. “My head hurts…Galo…”

The willpower that had kept him going—the adrenaline and desire to breathe—was fading. He stopped registering where he was. He looked up at the pizza restaurant that the Burning Rescue went to eat together. Then he kept walking. He came to the firehouse, where he had found a new family and warm meals and the security that he and others wanted after decades of abuse. He kept walking.

Then he came to the home that Galo had opened to him. Even now, in the ever-encroaching darkness at the back of his mind, he felt his love. He fell to his knees, what felt like daggers piercing into them. Had they been shattered, too? His head felt foggier than before. Sleep…would feel good right now. No, he had to get inside. It was cold and hard on the ground. He remembered that when the Burnish hid in caves and pop-up colonies and refugee camps. Why was that one of the things he could remember? His chest hurt with each heartbeat.

“Ga…lo…” he slurred. “I’m home…” He collapsed halfway from the street and the door. He hyperventilated automatically, his body desperately yearning for oxygen. “I…feel so…” He whined and whimpered.

“Lio?!” Galo’s voice came. He rushed to him from the street. He had bags under his eyes from the day’s exhaustion and the evening’s worry. He had been at the police station since Lio’s disappearance, and he wasn’t sure whether to be relieved to see him on the ground before their home or horrified by how badly he had been beaten and burned. “Hang in there, Lio!”

Lio felt his love’s bulky body against him. His consciousness came and went, but he was happy to at least be in his arms. As if he were a broken recorded, he simply apologized to him. He was sorry for what he had done as the leader of the Burnish, and he was sorry to his own people for the hardships he had caused them. Galo shushed him gently, holding to his chest as he stood up from the ground.

“Nothing you have to apologize for!” he told him. “I have to get you to a hospital. Just…just do what you always do! Keep fighting! Don’t give up…! Use your burning soul…!”

Whatever Lio tried to say next was incoherent gibberish. His head hadn’t stopped throbbing, his chest hadn’t stopped heaving up and down in rapid succession. He wouldn’t let himself die, but it was all so much to bear that maybe it would be better to relax and give up. At least there was comfort in Galo’s strong arms.

Galo didn’t waste anymore time. It wasn’t a good idea to carry him, but what else could he do while he laying in his arms fading away? He held him tightly, forcing himself to ignore Lio’s cries of discomfort. He was the leader of the Burnish still because if he gave up and died, so would all those that had been freed of their torment. He knew one thing for sure: when Lio was better, he would ask him who did it to him. He would see to it that whoever had hurt him like this would spend the rest of their days in prison.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The aftermath.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So...I wasn't intending on making this multi-chapter, but a couple wanted it and I had the idea.

Galo had visited Lio every day for several months after the attack. He was allowed to stay somewhat past visiting hours due to his position as a first responder, and he had been able to ask how he was and how he would be. The morning after he had rushed him to the emergency room, the nurses had reported that he had suffered multiple fractures and contusions, especially to his skull. When they told him that he would need surgery, his heart sank. But he promised to stay for him; it was in his burning soul.

Before the first surgery, Lio had regained consciousness albeit was delirious and confused. Surrounded by strange people dressed in white scrubs and masks, his heart raced. They held him down—even though he could barely move—as they carefully inserted the IV needle that would feed him anesthesia. The feeling of his heart slowing and the world spinning frightened him, and he desperately called Galo to help him. Naturally, his boyfriend couldn’t stay by his side, and while it broke his heart to leave him, he knew he had to do everything he could to stay near him.

By now, Lio’s diminutive body had recovered from every surgery, and Burning Rescue as a whole offered to help pay for the expenses. It was the least they could do to try and alleviate some of the burden that had been dropped on the young couple. It, however, wasn’t even the beginning of the next challenge in their lives.

One of the psychiatrists that worked in the hospital had decided to preemptively look at Lio’s reports as Galo started the motion to have his attackers found and arrested. The police were on the case, and while he was sure that it would bring some peace and closure to the former Burnish leader, the psychiatrist feared that it wouldn’t be enough. Being beaten within an inch of his life was a horrific event. She knew that Galo would understand what she meant. Other firefighters and emergency personnel typically left the job because of all the tragedy they had endured. Galo was aware that there was a high probability that Lio wouldn’t be the same, but he kept faith. It was natural to be on edge after something like that, and he was more than ready and willing to help him acclimate back to normalcy.

And so, he watched over him until he woke up from the heavy sedatives and pain medications for the surgeries. He talked cheerfully to his unconscious love, joking about the fact that they had to shave some hair to fix the skull fractures and brain contusions or telling him about the next coolest manga he had found. Sometimes he cried for him, apologizing to him for not being there to save him. He wished it had been him instead. Other times, he angrily vowed to make sure the people that did this to him would pay. At night, he intertwined his fingers and held his hand as he let sleep take him. Sleeping with Lio was the greatest comfort after a long day of hard work, and he wanted nothing more than to hold him in his arms and snuggle with him.

The day to go home finally came, and Lio was somewhat more cognizant than he had been. The pain medications worked while Galo and Ignis helped him into one of the fire trucks, and after they put him into a wheelchair and Galo thanked his boss for his assistance, the two stared at the house. Even drugged, Lio was tense.

“Welcome home!” Galo happily said to him, running around in front of him and waving his hands in front of their house. He kept eye contact, his smile blinding him and showering him with the warmth he wished for.

Galo wheeled him in. They crossed the threshold inside when Lio pushed himself out of it and looked around. He was still a little disoriented, but it was okay. Galo was sure about it. He wanted to be sure. After standing the wheelchair against the wall, he helped him to the small dining room table just outside of the kitchen.

“What would you like to eat?” Galo asked. “Want me to cook, or should I order some pizza?” Then he caught himself. “Ah, pizza’s not exactly healthy…but I think my cooking would put you back in the hospital.”

Lio just smiled at him, but it wasn’t the same kind of warm welcoming one that Galo had flashed him. He was apprehensive sitting there at the table. Unlike the fiery personality he had when they first met, he was meek, timid. He was afraid to touch anything. Then Galo noticed that he wasn’t making eye contact with him.

Galo ultimately opted for pizza. It was something that Lio loved ever since he joined Burning Rescue, and because it was Galo’s favorite food from his favorite restaurant, nothing could go wrong. He made the call, the pizza arrived, and the two sat quietly eating it. Well, Galo ate it; Lio just stared at it.

“Lio?” he asked him softly. “Not hungry?”

Lio shook his head.

“That’s okay! We can save it for later.” He finished his slice then got up to take Lio’s plate to pack up for later. “Man, their pizza is so good, but not eating for days makes it, like, one hundred times better! I can’t promise you that I’ll leave you some!” he joked. “But I can always order more…Lio, this could be a problem! I might order way too much pizza for us!”

Lio remained silent, clutching his arms and shrinking even more in his chair. Galo stopped talking at once. He worried about him. Without putting the rest of the pizza away, he walked to him, speaking to him gently and softly as he did. He had never seen him so withdrawn. There were times during their lovemaking that Lio’s mind wandered back to when Kray Foresight had tried to use him as fuel. Galo talked him through those dark moments back to reality, wiping away his tears. This was something else, though, and he only hoped that he could help him heal.

Galo’s next idea to help Lio get reacquainted at home was to help him take a bath. As much as he wanted to sit in the tub with him and hold him while they soaked, Lio was still too much on edge. He told him he was going to help him to the bathroom and undress him, which Lio was only barely okay with. He helped him into the tub then let the water run on his legs. It startled him, and Galo carefully shushed him and told him it was just water. When the water reached up to his chest, Galo turned it off.

“Okay, so you just relax a bit,” he told him.

“Galo…” Lio uttered. He took his hand, pressing it to his cheek. His face softened to that of a baby’s, his trembling figure making ripples in the water. Galo realized that something was seriously wrong. “I’m sorry…”

“You didn’t do anything wrong,” Galo reassured him. 

He gently took his hand from him. Carefully, he washed his shoulders. When Lio stood up for him to lather him with soap, he took care not to touch him too much wherever he was still sore. He rinsed him off and moved onto shampooing his hair. Once he was done, he wrapped him in a towel and carried him to their bedroom. He dressed him in a long flowing shirt—not quite a night gown, simply one of his bigger tops.

It was still early in the evening, but it was best if Lio got rest. Galo undressed down to his boxers then slipped into bed with him. He held him close to his chest, the slow rhythmic breaths that made him swell next to him. It was comforting to an extent, but the focus on his breathing frightened Lio. Even though he knew that Galo would never hurt him and wished to protect him from anything that dared to harm him, he tensed in dreadful fear that someone was still coming for him. Whoever they were, they would break in and finish the job.

Lio shivered and whimpered. He clenched the sheets in his fists as he tried to stifle his sobs in his pillow. Galo shushed him, kissing his head and hugging him tightly but gently to remind him that he was safe. Nothing he did seemed to help him. Despite it, they eventually fell asleep. It wasn’t without difficulty; Lio felt himself drift off only for him to throw himself back into the waking world hyperventilating and gasping for air.

In the morning, however, Galo found that he was gone. And he smelled bacon. He couldn’t help but feel relieved and delighted that he had gotten up to cook them food. He happily leapt out of bed and ran to catch him in his arms. He was so eager to see him all better.

Lio had finished making a plate for the one that had taken care of him. His movements were restrained to things immediately in front of him so that Galo didn’t see the plate. With shaking hands, he tried his best to put the last bit of egg on the plate.

“Good morning, Lio!” Galo chimed behind him, but what happened next broke his heart.

Frightened by the sudden noise, Lio dropped the plate of food and the frying pan. He spun with tears streaming down his face. He begged him to leave him alone and stay back. He slid down to the floor and pressed himself into the corner created by the counter and cabinets. Apologizing and groveling at his feet, he sobbed:

“I’m sorry! I tried to make it better—I did! I’m sorry, Galo! I’m sorry for everything! Please, have mercy…! What I did was wrong—I-I know!”

Galo took a step towards him only to be screamed at to stay away from him. He didn’t obey his wishes, resulting in Lio trying to fight back and push him away. It was only making things worse, but there was something terribly wrong. The firefighter didn’t know what to do if trying to hold him and comfort him wasn’t working.

“It’s okay, Lio, everything is okay,” he tried to whisper to him. He hugged him despite knowing that it made the trembling mess of a person more and more ashamed and uncomfortable. “You didn’t do anything wrong.”

Lio screeched and bellowed for forgiveness and to be let go. He wheezed from the hyperventilation that overcame him, the anxiety and dread making him sick to his stomach. He managed to force himself from Galo before retching. Once he stopped, he just stared at the tiny puddle of saliva that had collected.

Later that day, once Lio had calmed down enough for Galo to put him to bed, the latter went to the fire station. He had asked Heris what he could do to help. She told him that there was only one place he could start, but the once-fiery leader wouldn’t like it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> By default, there will be a third chapter, but probably not until I see Promare again MAYBE in December.


	3. The Verdict

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lio starts therapy, and the verdict of the trial comes in.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Good morning and happy holidays! This is the first of FOUR updates today. Unfortunately, I've managed to get sick just in time for Christmas, but I'll work through it~
> 
> This chapter is the final chapter in this fic. It's been a long time since I've done anything with my psychology knowledge, and even longer since I've done anything with my forensics/law knowledge (and while I still have my notes from the American Academy of Forensic Science conference back in 2017, I don't know where I put them. Though, I suppose I would need more knowledge on court proceedings, and I couldn't bring myself to watch a documentary about a notorious hate crime trial to do that). So apologies if this ending seems kind of duct tape together.

When Galo brought Lio back to the hospital, the former Burnish leader tensed. If not for his partner being by his side and coaxing him to walk down the bleach-white halls, he would have no doubt run away or had another anxiety attack. Being inside or even near the hospital scared him almost as much as any automotive garage, which Heris had warned about.

Her field of study was far from medicine, but she had basic knowledge about post-traumatic stress disorder thanks to her research on the Burnish back when she worked for Kray; at the very least, the symptoms and knowing what had transpired were strong indicators that Lio would suffer from it. The psychiatrist that had kept an eye on him during his recovery after his multiple surgeries had known as well, and while she had hoped that her prediction would be false, she was ready to help him.

There was also the matter of catching the men that had attacked Lio. It was a felony to a injure firefighter, and hate crimes were far more heinous. As lucky as he was to have survived, his death would have carried a far heavier sentence. Ignis, chief of the team and a father to everyone on it including their newest recruits, headed the motion that the perpetrators were to be tried for the highest possible penalty. Naturally, Galo wanted to be part of that debacle, either in finding them or catching them or judging them. He wouldn’t try to beat them as some sort of vigilante justice because it would only get him in trouble. Plus, he had to be with Lio.

And Lio needed him more than ever as he started treatment. He was given a prescription for an SSRI that Galo promised to remind him to take—since the trauma would still have him disorganized—as well as referred to another private psychiatrist that could help him become desensitized to anything that would bring back memories of that night. It was complicated and a lot to remember, but Galo was more than ready to be there for him.

He wanted to take care of him. While Lio was at his first day of therapy, he went out to pick up the prescription and anything else that would help make him feel better. Then he caught sight of the perfect thing. It was a giant dragon plush toy that was long enough wrap one-and-a-half times around a small child. Lio was of a small build, so what could be better than that? He stopped by his favorite pizza joint for a large box then by a department store for a new blanket. He wanted that when he picked him up from his first session, he would feel comfortable and loved and safe.

“Lio?” the psychiatrist uttered his name in the office. “How do you feel?”

The head of blond turned slowly to her. He wasn’t quite sure how was supposed to feel in this new situation. He understood that her role was to help him overcome the frightful memories that plagued him now. How could he explain what he felt?

A deep emptiness was a start. A feeling like he wasn’t supposed to have survived, but he did. He had both accepted his fate and refuted it, leaving a tumbling storm of conflict in the pit of his stomach that rose up in nauseating waves. It was a volcano that wanted to erupt but couldn’t because if it did, somehow things would fall apart. If he had another outburst of panic again, surely the ones that tried to kill him would hear him. Like bloodhounds, they would smell him out and finish the job. It was an anxiety where it was more than impending doom. It was inevitable and far worse than his mind could begin to comprehend with each new evolution of possibility more gruesome than the last. What if they came back for real? What if Galo was caught up in it? What would they do to him? The thoughts got darker and darker, his heart racing faster and faster until he could sense it. Standing at the edge of the cliff and ready to take the plunge, he felt that panic creeping up from him. He tried to push it back down, but like the second law of thermodynamics, it was pushing back harder. Creeping, creeping, creeping from the farthest reaches of his mind that strangled him quietly and softly. His only means to try and sublimate that feeling was to physically try to hold himself together, and even then, his own generated force wouldn’t be enough.

“Lio, follow my voice,” the psychiatrist spoke again. Gently and with care like Galo’s voice, she pulled on a string that brought him down from the swirling cloud of the looming storm in his brain. “Everything is alright. Just listen to my voice and breathe. Inhale…exhale…in through the nose, out through the mouth.”

Inhale, exhale, inhale, exhale…inhale, exhale…inhale…exhale…and he began to feel just slightly more in control.

The psychiatrist stood from her seat then circled back to her desk. Underneath it, she had a box full of all kind of stuffed toys. There were bears and dogs and tigers—she also worked with kids, so oftentimes she noted her observations from them. The softness of the toys brought a sense of security and warmth. While it was strange to give a teddy bear to an adult, there was the potential that it would help him.

“Lio, what’s your favorite animal?” she asked him. Lio still wouldn’t answer. “Hmmm, alright. I’m going to bring the crate to you, and you can pick. Does that sound good?”

Lio peeked at her then nodded. And so she did. He slowly uncurled himself from the chair, the slight breeze from the air vent above him suddenly chilling him. With the abundance of toys in front of him, he perused until he pulled out a pink-colored lion with diamond-sparkly eyes. Once he had wrapped it up in his arms, he curled back up on the seat.

The psychiatrist wrote it down on her notepad. It was interesting that he had chosen the lion. She associated toys with what they meant usually. A bear was given for warmth; kids who had lost a parent or had to be taken from their parents typically chose that one. Dogs were for security, which kids who had been assaulted or abused preferred. Lions, thanks to that story about a girl going to a different world, represented courage to kids who had probably seen or heard something and were afraid to say what happened.

“Lio, do you mind if I ask you some questions? They’re so I can properly address your trauma,” she said soothingly. “That means I need you to talk to me. Can you do that?”

“Okay.”

“Good, let’s begin.”

Meanwhile, Ignis had gone to the police station to find out if any leads had been collected on the aggressors. The force was divided much like the populace with some officers sympathizing with Galo and what had happened to his partner and others secretly praising that the assailants had done the right thing. Of course, when wearing their badge, it couldn’t be made obvious that that group felt that particular way, but Ignis was a smart man. He knew that if Galo had been the one to confront them about the progress, the rookie firefighter would have lost his cool. He was still uneducated about the dichotomy of social justice. There was always going to be someone that took the side of those that committed the crime. And the Burnish hadn’t been completely accepted. Not everyone believed that equality was better than oppression.

Ignis collected whatever reports he was able to get, thanking those willing to help and ignoring those that seemed to have turned a blind eye to the whole incident. No matter if the evidence was there or if they had been identified and found or if what they did was wrong, there was always some sort of rift between morality and supremacy. He was glad to know that they had been found, but they had yet to be taken into custody. And Galo wasn’t too happy to hear about that.

His cheerful mood, stemming from buying things to help care for Lio, hit rock bottom. He was glad to hear that the men had been identified, but what good were IDs when there wasn’t any progress on apprehending them? Aina, Remi, and everyone else in the fire station had to be worried that he wouldn’t go on his own to find them. If Galo took matters into his own hands, Ignis would have no choice but to relieve him of his duties. So, he stressed to him to let him handle the legal stuff.

And that was that. Galo had been told only to tend to Lio. When he brought him home that evening, he showered him with the gifts that he had bought for him. He led him to the bathroom to wash up. Putting on one of Galo’s shirts and getting a slice of pizza for dinner—yes, he did everything like normal to restore that stability. And once they had finished eating, Galo gave him the dragon toy and the blanket.

“Do you like them?” Galo asked him. He didn’t want validation; he wanted to know if these helped him. “I thought they would be nice and soft and you could wrap up when you…when you feel down.”

“Thank you, Galo,” Lio quietly said. Some life had returned to his eyes. “I’m sorry about…the other day.”

“Hey, don’t be! I shouldn’t have snuck up on you like that.” They sat together on the couch, Lio under his arm and hanging onto the dragon. “How was the first session?”

It seemed like a blur. He talked to the psychiatrist about how therapy was going to work, but the attack was still fresh in his mind and hurt his head to think about anything else. She had said something…but what? To breathe? Okay, he had to remember to breathe, and now he had a dragon to hug when Galo wasn’t there. Could he bring it with him? He hoped so. Therapy was going to be long and arduous. The psychiatrist asked him to be strong because when he was strong and overcame the affliction that his attackers had given him, he would be able to fight them.

Days passed and turned into weeks and months. Lio’s therapy had helped him to recover until he was almost back to normal. There were still points of relapse where he would remember nearly dying, and Galo was there to help him through it. The prescription for the medicine to help alleviate the anxiety had been reduced, and eventually Lio did feel like he would be okay not taking them in the high doses that he used to. It angered him that he was on them for the rest of life in case the memory came back, but if it meant that he could have the semblance of a normal life, then it wasn’t all terrible.

Galo had learned that the attackers had been caught and were facing trial. Ignis encouraged him—not Lio—to witness the trial yet told him to stay with Lio and forget about it. Whatever the outcome, he would make sure that it was suitable for the crime. After all, there had been an incident between one of the officers and Galo involving a difference of opinion. An officer that agreed with the aggressors happened before him after filing a police report for some other arson attack on a smaller business, and before things got out of control, Ignis interfered. He had ordered Galo to take a walk. He didn’t know what came out of it, but there was a news report of the officer being released from his duty for the misconduct of antagonizing the partner of a victim of a heinous crime.

But it was unavoidable. As the victim of the crime, he had to testify. His whole body was evidence—the scars he had received and the bruises that were still present on his pale skin. Galo didn’t want him there. Unfortunately, there was nothing he could do. Lio’s attorney called Rit up to the stand.

“I told you, I had nothing to do with this,” the man professed. “I was at home.”

“Funny you should say that,” the attorney said. “The accomplices of the crime confessed to being a part of attack, and one of them named you in their confession as the leader. You led the attack.”

Listening to the evidence and the arguing back and forth of who did what made Lio sick. He clung onto Galo’s hand to anchor him to reality and prevent him from dissociating. No matter how much he tried to shut out the noise and sights of it all, he couldn’t. The pictures of the injuries shocked the jurors and the witnesses of the trial, and Galo only wished he didn’t have to be reminded of it. He was so scared that night when he found Lio. Even though he was still scared for him—these men had broken him and repairing his mind was going to be difficult regardless of how much love he could give him—he was so angry. He held onto Lio, too. He was his only restraint of not leaping from the audience and pummeling him into the ground.

The trial went on for weeks, and when court was adjourned and everyone had gone home, Lio sought comfort in Galo’s presence.

Whether it was just cuddling together and watching movies or making love to alleviate the stress of all that had happened, Lio just wanted to be with Galo and forget it all. There were times he couldn’t help but panic and cry. Galo did his best to calm him down, but never once did he forget that the men on trial were the ones that had broken him.

Pleasantly exhausted from his antics with the firefighter, Lio slept soundly next to him. Galo watched him before touching his face and thinking desperately how to make things better. The only thing that would do it, though, was the verdict if it came back as guilty. The evidence was irrefutable, but Lio was part of a minority regardless of his position as a first responder himself. The judge, thankfully, upheld what it meant to serve justice. He had faith that they would be found guilty.

But even then, it was up to the jurors. They deliberated for days, and every second after the third day, Galo and Ignis and all their firefighting friends worried that nothing would be done. The longer they took to determine the verdict, the bleaker the outlook. He just couldn’t understand; the evidence that had been Lio’s injuries as well as what detectives had found at the scene should have made it easy. So why?

Lio had been going to therapy as scheduled, but every day he came home to Galo, he wrapped his arms around him and asked him listlessly, tired from having to work through his trauma, when the final nail would be driven into the coffin. He wanted it to be done. He wanted justice to be served. If they could lock away the people that had committed such a crime against people who were re-assimilating back into their society, they would be safe. It would drive the message that hate wouldn’t last. So why was it taking so long? A week later, everyone was called back to court. A decision had been made, a verdict reached.

“Your Honor,” a juror said. “We’ve reached a verdict.”

When the jurors determined that the men were all guilty of attempted murder and committing a hate crime, Galo and his friends rejoiced. Lio was stunned, as if disbelieving that they were really found guilty. They had a victory pizza at the pizza joint and celebrations, yet it all still felt surreal.

After they arrived home, Lio faced Galo. “Are they really…sentenced to death?” he asked him. “Or am I dreaming still?”

“Well, technically, they’re sentenced to 184 years to life,” Galo corrected him.

“But they’ll still rot and die in prison.”

“Well…I-I guess.”

“They didn’t get parole. And…good behavior doesn’t matter, right?”

“The evidence was clear, and no amount of good behavior can get them out.” He placed a sturdy hand on his shoulder. “Lio, they’re gone for good. They’ll never hurt you ever again. And if they somehow manage to find you, I’ll protect. I’m sorry I couldn’t protect you before.”

“But you saved me! I’m…I’m the one who should be sorry—I _am_ sorry. I shouldn’t have left without you. Then this wouldn’t have happened, and I wouldn’t be like this. It’s so much of a burden for you, too. I’m sorry, Galo.”

“None of this is your fault,” Galo reassured him. He gave him a few pecks on the head and cheek. “I’ll do whatever I can to help you. Even if on hard days. You can do this, and you bet I’ll be right there by your side to help you!”

Lio tried his best not to tear up as Galo smiled at him. He loved him deeply, and he was so grateful to have him. Even if they had their differences in the past, they were one and the same now. He leaned towards him and stood on the tips of his toes to give him a bittersweet kiss. He was right; there were going to be hard days from now on, but he wasn’t alone. He had Galo with him. He could count on him because he had been saved by him once before. No matter what, Galo believed that they could move on.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That's it! That's all for this fic! Thank you for reading, and rest assured I do have a happier Promare fic in the works. It's just gonna take a LOT of time.

**Author's Note:**

> I saw a post on Twitter about how most Promare fics are hurt/comfort or hurt/comfort/smash--and yeah. I can see that. The movie hit a pretty big issue. But I promise, one of these days I'll write something happier for these two.


End file.
